


That one where Cas is a nephilim and Dean is trans

by HenriMorgo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Action, Case Fic, FTM Dean, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Nephilim, Non-Human Castiel (Supernatural), Rewrite, Season/Series 01, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, and i am ignorant enough to think that i can fix it, because supernatural has bad writters, dead name use, dean's dead name is melody, mentions of child abuse, mentions of dead names, romance (mild), transphobia (mild)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 03:25:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17738090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HenriMorgo/pseuds/HenriMorgo
Summary: what if dean was trans and castiel was a nephlim and they traveled together with sam through out the entire series? this. this is what happens.





	1. The meet cute

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for clicking on my first story. I am open to criticism.

 

     It seemed kind of strange and slightly counter intuitive but truck yards were excellent places for hiding. The hollowed out wrecks they sometimes kept for insurance purposes provided enough shelter for the night and, if one was lucky, an actual mattress. They were easy to get into because often times they left their front gate wide open for the drivers, who when they saw anyone just assumed that they were supposed to be there. Castiel picked up on this unlikely tad bit of information from one of the many foster parents he had over the years. though he had long escaped the system.

     With his bag over his shoulder and a watchful eye on his surroundings he marched into the yard, the trucks sat like golems waiting for use. The gravel crunched under his feet and the wind caught in the trees made it just shy of warm enough to sleep on the ground. In the morning he would have to find new transportation and food. Now the only thing on his mind was sleep. He had been running for too long, stalking the thing following him as much as it was stalking him. The only catch was that they didn’t need to sleep or eat, he did, but it made him better at hiding.

     It was unusually dead, even for two in the morning, the buzzing street lamps sputtered and died, they could just be worn out, but Castiel was never that innocently lucky. He drew his weapon, a small sliver tri-edged dagger he had been able to steal. He kept it slightly up the sleeve of his coat but continued walking. Now that he was looking for it there was plenty of movement in the truck yard, a raccoon under a semi a few paces away, some sort of hawk up in the trees and cars creating constant background noise on the distant freeway. He rounded the corner take care not to make too much noise when he spotted a driver, sitting in the lit cab of his truck taking along pull of a cigarette.

     Castiel relaxed minutely, looking again over his shoulder, and then continued his confident stride, when he looked at the driver again and stopped. There was something behind him, Castiel tilted his head curiously, he hadn’t a clue what it was but that hardly mattered as the thing flickered, appearing on the man’s chest, he screamed and blood splattered. Castiel’s eyes grew wide. He was shocked, mouth agape but he dared not move for a few quiet seconds.

      Another figure came running, passing Castiel where he stood in the shadows between two trucks. 

     The man cursed and swore at the sky. He leaned over and panted heavily. “I warned the god damned bastard.” He muttered.

     “Warned him about what?” Castiel found himself asking without thinking about it.

     The other man snapped to attention. The gun in his hand coming level with his eyes and he dearly regretted ever saying anything. “Who the fuck are you?”

     “Castiel. And you?” he wasn’t particularly afraid of guns. The few times that he had been shot were lackluster.

     “Did you see her?” the other man demanded, glaring fiercely. “Because you better hope you didn’t.”

     “Is that a threat?” he narrowed his eyes. “And was  _ she _ exactly?”

     The other man sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face and lowed the gun, “She’s a ghost, I don’t have time for the whole ghost and demons are real spiel that I usually give, but you need to come with me right now, you’re in danger.” He tucked the gun into the waistband of his pants and roughly grabbed Castiel by the shoulder, “Forget whatever load you have to pick up and come with me.”

     Castiel let himself be shoved, but otherwards didn’t let the stranger take him. “I don’t even know who you are.”

      “The name’s Dean, I’m going to take you with me whether you want to go or not.” The gun was out again and jabbing him sharply in the ribs.

      Castiel narrowed his eyes but relented, if this Dean person knew about some kind of supernatural entity then he would likely not take very kindly to any non-human traits Castiel may or may not possess. Dean marched them right out of the truck yard and into a black muscle car parked on the road. It roared to life and Castiel sighed and settled into the passenger seat, keeping an eye on street signs and turns. Hopefully he could get out of this relatively unharmed.

     They ended up not too far from their starting point at a hotel, one of the crappier two levels that Castiel had spent the night in when he had money once a upon a time. He didn’t mind the change of scenery just the change of company, Dean crowded him into room 125 and locked the door behind them. The place had obviously become some kind of temporary base, the door and the windows were lined with salt. The furthest bed from the door was not made and the one closest to the door had a neat arrangement of weaponry set out for use at a moments notice. The walls were covered in posted up clippings of newspapers and hastily written notes. Dean had been working at this for a long while and knew what he was doing.

     “Now do you mind explaining?” he turned on his captor, coat spinning with him.

     “Alright,” he popped open the mini fridge and tossed Castiel one of the chilled beers. “so ghosts, demons, vampires, all the things that go bump in the night are real, and I’m a hunter, I travel around and kill them.”

     “That wasn’t exactly the speech I was expecting.”

     “And the thing you saw tonight is a ghost,” he continued ignoring the snide comment, “a seriously pissed off traveling ghost, she likes to latch onto the last person who sees her and then follow them for three days before things get all grim and bloody.” He gestured to the wall and Castiel followed the motion, “I tracked her from Louisiana to Michigan to here. Now I’ve got you, tried to warn the last guy but he wouldn’t listen but now I can find a way to kill it.”

      “Are you saying you don’t currently know how to kill it?” he pondered over the wall and found the crime scenes, it wasn’t pretty and Castiel had more than enough already on his plate.

     “I don’t see you offering any great ideas.” Dean shot back. He popped open his beer then handed the bottle opener to Castiel. “just sit down shut up and have a drink, this should all blow over for you in three days then you can call your boss and be on you marry truck driving way. You guys all like beer, don’t you?”

     "I’m not a truck driver Dean,” he took the offered utensil, “and it is unfair to generalize an entire group of people.”

     "Well then who the hell are you?” Dean only looked mildly concerned to his credit.

     “I am Castiel, wandering vagrant.” The response was heavy in the sarCasm.

     “Well congratulations.” Dean said, equally as flat. He pulled out a chair to the leaning table and sat with the backrest to his chest. He flipped open one of the heavy worn books balanced on it and began to read, “Feel free to use the shower and pass out on the bed. You could probably use it being homeless and all.”

     “I didn’t say homeless Dean.” He growled, even though he was very glad for the opportunity of a real bed, he was still slightly offended.

     “Yeah, whatever.” Dean waved him off not really paying attention to him anymore. Turning back to the book and looking like it had just killed his dog.

     That was just fine by Castiel and he entered the bathroom and started the water. He got dressed after the shower in the Same clothes and strapped the blade to his thigh again, benefits to a long coat, and dropped himself heavily onto the bed. Dean was seemingly engrossed in his tome of a book. Castiel was not well versed in the art of falling asleep in the company of others and certainly not without knowing the person first but soon enough he found himself nodding off.

     When he came to the next morning, Dean was in the Same position, but with a coffee in place of the beer, he looked tired, worried and just done. His green eyes caught Castiel’s movement, he studied him for a second the cleared his throat, “Morning sleeping beauty. Nice knife you had on you.” He waved it nonchalantly. “I guess you’re not so innocent when it comes to the whole supernatural things huh?”

     “Dean,” Castiel said, “that is not for humans.”

     "I guessed that by the sigils and weird fucking shape. What is it then?”

     “It’s mine and I suggest that you return it.” Castiel rolled off the bed standing in what he hoped would be a threatening stance.

     “Testy. And also, tough luck, I don’t fancy waking up dead.”  Dean looked dangerous without even moving a muscle.

     “If you were dead, I doubt you would wake up.” He countered. “It is for self-defense only. I assure you.”

     “Well not for nothing Cas but I did kind of kidnap you.”

     Castiel huffed and paced, it was unlikely he would be getting it back anytime soon, possibly not ever which meant that he had no way to kill the thing coming after him. “What if we destroy this ghost, then will you return it.”

     “Must be mightily special but it doesn’t mean that you know anything about ghost killing.”

     Dean had a point, he didn’t, but judging by the entire night of research neither did Dean, at least in this specific instance. 

     “I could learn, it is my life on the line after all.”

     “Fair.” Dean took to his feet and approached Castiel, the held the blade out to him handle first. “Whether you're a hunter or just very attached to a family heirloom, I could probably use the help.”     

     Castiel didn’t know how tense he was until he took grip of his weapon again. his shoulders dropped, “So are there other hunters?”

     “Yeah, but we don’t like working together, kind of a conservative crowd.” Dean gave a little wince. “Alright Castiel the vagrant, lesson number one then. Ghosts hate salt, or really anything that purifies, salt is just the easiest one to grab, you can also cram rock salt into shotgun shells and shoot at them, that gets them dispersed long enough for them to not kill you for a couple seconds.” Dean continued to rattle off facts about the ghost, how they were stopped, how handy iron was, what kind of powers they had, what made a ghost and most importantly the way to stop them.

     Castiel listened attentively, catching all of the useful information and cataloging it into his memory. “So why can’t we just salt and burn this corpse? It would seem simple enough Dean.”

     “Well I have no idea where it started, it takes a couple of deaths for there to be a pattern I can pick up on, then there is the issue of not knowing who was patient zero and apparently  a trucker can go pretty far in a very short time, some of these guys piss in bottles to keep going, fucking bottles man, truckers are gross.” Dean pulled a face, “So I figure with the obvious time constraint that we should try another way to gank the fucker. So, research, which I hate.”

     “How else does one kill the ghost?” he squinted at the hunter.

     “Well depends on the type of ghost, if it is one born of fear you kill it with fear, fire with fire, etc. But there isn’t an obvious cause of death or motivation, at least not that I can find.” He slumped forward, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. “I could really use some sleep.” He mumbled, sat up again and scrubbed both hands down his face and sighed deeply, then got his nose back into the book.

     Castiel felt slightly bad for being the cause of the man’s exhaustion. He could see that Dean was a kind person to a fault, but a tired protector would be near useless. He joined Dean and the worryingly wobbly table and pulled a tome closer to himself and started at page one despite his confusion at what exactly he was looking for. He wished he could just stab it with his stolen knife. It would make it much easier, lower the number of things currently trying to kill him.

     It was near midday before his growing hunger called attention to itself. Leaned back in his seat, “Well we’re getting nowhere fast, how about breakfast?”

     “I would appreciate that Dean, but I carry no currency.”

     “You’re a strange guy.” Dean said thoughtfully, “How about I pay alright?”

     The diner they found was not very impressive, and boarded on downright shabby, there were multiple people in what looked like industrial workers uniforms and the wait staff looked half dead and done with the world. Dean took a booth near the door with an eye on the kitchen entrance, Castiel took note of Dean’s choice, it made him more comfortable with his presence, perhaps he did know what he was doing.

     Their waitress didn’t keep them waiting long, took their orders and then vanished into the lunch bustle. The two men stared at each other across the table.

     “So, are you going to tell me what exactly you are?” Dean finally relented. “You seem awfully calm about a vengeful spirit after you. This not your first rodeo buddy?”

     Castiel sighed, slouching slightly in the sticky vinyl seat. “No Dean. I’ve suspected the supernatural in the past but I didn’t not know that there were people out fighting back. Tell me do you hunt all manner of non-humans or just those that murder and kill.”

     Dean huffed. “Never met anything non-human that didn’t want to maim and kill us but I don’t think I would kill a friendly given the right circumstances, but I couldn’t say for sure. What are you saying for sure Castiel?”

     The conversation was getting a little bit too subtle for Castiel’s taste, subtlety was never his strong suit, unless it came to keeping his head down. He just caught Deans’ eye and kept contact until the other man relented.

     “Alright,” He threw his hands up in the air, “so don’t share with the class but if you get me killed, I’m going to haunt your ass.” 

     They sat in silence for another minute just looking. “So, do hunters usually hunt alone then?”

     Dean just shrugged, “Do vagrants travel alone? You’re kind of bordering on personal shit Cas, and as a general rule I don’t do chick flick moments.”

     “What would a genre of movies have to do with conversation?”

Dean huffed a laugh at him.

     “So, what would count as holy ground?” Castiel was kind of glad for Dean’s deflection. He drummed his fingers on the table, thoughtfully. “Would it be any church or would it have to be something that the ghost considered holy?”

     “What brings this up?”

     “The book said that a ghost cannot pass holy ground less it is sent to rest.”

     Dean thought a second, “I dunno man, never thought about that.” The waitress returned putting down their drinks and receiving courteous thanks. “We could try tricking it into passing over I guess, that’s pretty risky.”

     Castiel mused over it, the worse that could happen is that the ghost arrives and rips his throat out. Not something that has killed him before, though he was not going to mention such a thing to Dean, he still did not know his morals or motivation.

     “I don’t see another option though.” Dean finally relented, “I kind of prefer the flying by the seat of my pants thing but we can try it. We have time to prepare.”

     The planning stage of this was not going to be easy, Dean assured him of it, but most of the first day was sitting around in the motel room, curtains drawn shut as Dean ‘got his four hours’, then scowering the internet both for information and a suitable abandonded area. The real problem here was that truckers went to industrialized areas and this was certainly an industrialized area, and beyond that was the housing nessiary for all the workers, then shopping centers and parks. It was a good area for hiding in plain sight but not a good area for actual hiding. This promised to be both loud and suspicious.

     As the dead line approached Castiel began to see her out of the corner of his eye, in shop windows, flickering in the corner of his vision. It didn’t help matters that he was getting more and more nervous over staying in one general area for any length of time, he started scanning roof tops and alleyways. if his new companion noticed anything then he didn’t say so.

     They found possibly the creepiest place to set the trap. It was a local haunt, or so said the hastily scraped together Wikipedia page. It was still a church though, possibly consencrated ground. It was near a lively neighborhood but it was left alone, they had taken care of the razor wire placed around the preimiter and set up shop inside, Dean must have spent a pretty penny on salt as he was able to line all enthrances and exits, then he made a perfect  large circle in the catherdral.

     “Stay in here and do not move, should keep her out.” Dean said pointedly, like he was scolding Castiel as a mother would a child. It was not something he appreciated.

     “What about your protection Dean?” he shot back. He felt stupid and out in the open. If he hadn’t grown to trust Dean over the three days then he would feel that he was waiting for his death.

     Dean brandished his sawed off shot gun and grinned. “Back up plan.”

     “I don’t think she is going to just walk though the door of her own volition.”

     “That’s why I said backup plan.” He blinked innocently.

     “You are not nearly as cute as you think you are Dean.”

     “Oh, come on, I’m adorable.” He checked his watch, “You saw her at about one, right? Should be coming soon.”

     “I think this is a dumb idea.” Castiel complained, but straitend his stance and squared his shoulders anyhow.

     Dean rolled his eyes and leaned against the aging pulpit. “Really now, you haven’t mentioned. Look, we get you through the night and maybe she’ll just go away.”

     “Wishful thinking gets people killed.”

     He scoffed. “You sound like my dad, and he was a dick.” He cocked the gun, “Just about show time, break a leg Cas.”

     Castiel rolled his eyes then focused on the door. It was a still, quiet night, the rustle of the trees notwithstanding. The church was strangely located behind a trailer park, bordering some unused train tracks and very nearly under a newly constructed over pass. It was like the people of the small city wanted it to vanish, pretend like it had never existed. The moon was not quite full and the clouds were covering it most of the time so that it was not Casting light on the unusually dark night. There were no stars here. The entire valley had been covered by cities and the light they produced drowned them out. Castiel thought it was a pity, desert stars were always the best ones.

     He didn’t let the surroundings demand too much of his attention. Keeping a wary eye out and stretching his senses as far as they could go. There were people living not too far away, an angry dog barked at passing cars in the distance. He could feel nothing supernatural, but that was unsurprising. It is very difficult to pick a needle out of a hay stack if one had never seen a needle before.

     As he had predicted the ghost appeared at the door. Giving him a wild grin, flopping her head to the side, the long thin slit on her throat opening up and dripping black blood onto the floor. Castiel winced, it was not a pretty sight. Dean didn’t seem taken aback though, only snapping to attention and rounding the barrel of the gun on her. They both watched with bated breath.

     She flickered and seemed to survey the open arch of the church doors. Then she shambled in, crossing the line of concentrated ground, but stopping at the salt. She promptly vanished again, it was like she appeared just to make a point. Castiel bit back the I told you so that threatened to bubble up. He settled for shooting Dean a look.

     “Any idea where she went?” Dean said gruffly.

     “I am not the hunter Dean.” Maybe he was a little bit snippy.

     The wind suddenly picked up, a few grains of salt scattered away from the door. Castiel squinted at the darkness beyond the church, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go horrendously wrong. Then his eyes caught the vague shape of human just beyond the reach of the light, it was not the ghost and he felt his anxiety kick up a notch.

     The wind whipped away the salt line at the door and the ghost appeared in the church, and Dean rounded with practiced ease and fired off a shot. she vanished into mist, but Castiel paid him no mind, retrieving the blade from his thigh holster, eyes never wavering from the door and the figure beyond. It was coming, and it wasn’t one for preamble. It marched forward, light catching on the borrowed human body. She was young, small, blonde. Almost tragedy that she now held something far more dangerous than herself. He couldn’t do anything about her now, Castiel didn’t waver. Up the steps, across the failed line, and into the chapel it came with all the confidence of a seasoned warrior.

     “Who the hell is that?!” Dean yelled distractedly and continued his alsalt on the first enemy. He wondered how many times he’d asked that question and wondered if he could get a dime for each one or something.     

     Without a single movement but for the swing of its right arm the newcomer slammed Dean  against the wall as if he was nothing but an insect. He coughed thickly, clenching his teeth and dropping his weapon. The sound echoed in the empty church.

     The creature looked them over, her face showed no emotion and neither did its voice. “I would have thought you would run faster and harder Abomination. You do not live up to your reputation.” It cocked its head to the side.

     Dean, still pinned snickered slightly, “Wow, Cas look at that, aren’t you popular with the ladies.” He quipped.

     The creatures head snapped to him. “A human? Poor creature, to have its life snuffed out without doing anything with it.”

     “Look it’s obvious you’re wearing that body as a meat suit, so what are you, demon?” He seemed not to be afraid and Castiel almost thought Dean was a fool. “Why don’t you let that poor girl go huh?”

     The ghost made its presence known again and the new attacker seemed to be only slightly bothered by it lifting up a palm and grabbing it by the neck a blinding flash of light and the spirit was no more, ripples of energy and heat made the electricity outside flicker. “Do not insult me.”

     “It’s an angel Dean.” Castiel was ready for attack,he was braced for it, knowing that the salt would have no effect on it.

     The angel’s attention was still on the hunter, Castiel was prepared for many things but he was not prepared for the angel to start crushing the light out of Dean’s frail human body. Dean gasped and cursed. Twisting in on the wall where he was pinned.

     “If one consorts with an abomination then they must be cleansed.” It narrowed eyes at Dean, like a child torturing a cat. Like Dean was beneath it, like Dean deserved such a thing.  

     Despite himself Castiel felt a surge of panic and he surged forward, the angel was ready however, still keeping Dean aloft it drew its own blade and counter attacked, Castiel could feel the slight wind from the angel’s wings, a tell of where it would move next. Even though he couldn’t see them they still moved the angel’s sense of gravity and that allowed Castiel to dodge and maneuver away from deadly attacks of the angel’s blade. Near misses and near hits coordinated a dance between them.

     Dean coughed again it was a slight distraction but it was the narrow window that Castiel needed to attack, and he took advantage of that to sucker punch the angel. They very rarely thought he would fight dirty, this angel looked particularly offended by the action. Now Castiel knew that he had the angel’s full attention. The easiest weakness to exploit in an angel was pride and Castiel knew it well. Shortly he drove the blade into the sternum and slid it upward, withdrew and pushed the angel back with all of his might.

     The angel staggered backwards and clutched at its chest and fell, dead weight landing wetly in its own blood. it choked and burst in a wild gust of blue light, the previously invisible wings scorching into the ancient and rotten floor boards. Castiel reached out and caught a bit of the blue light and clutched it to his chest like holding something precious. It wove into his very being. It was a dirty tactic. But with each angel he dispatched the more likely he was to survive the next one. This was about survival. As quickly as the light appeared it dissipated. Castiel breathed in once, twice and relaxed.

     Dean gagged, causing Castiel’s eyes to snap to him. He had three broken ribs and a collapsed lung. Castiel didn’t know how he knew that but he rushed over none the less and grabbed the hunter by the shoulder. Castiel concentrated on the hunters breathing and his wounds and felt something in himself reach out and knit the flesh and bone back together. Dean’s eyes widened as he felt it. It was like he was suddenly filled with something he was always missing. Then it was gone with Castiel’s hand and Dean suddenly felt better than he had in his entire life.

     “What the hell man?” He demanded but didn’t move from the kneel, he was frantically patting his chest and face like he expected to find a new as of yet undiscovered gaping hole in him.

     Castiel was just as confused as him tipping his head to the right. “I don’t know, that is something I haven’t done before.”

     “That’s a new thing? Magic healing? A new thing, and what the hell? Angels want you dead, and for another matter angels exist?! This is huge and you just weren’t going to mention it?” Dean flapped his hands around.

     "You sound near hysterical.”

     “Hell, yeah I’m near hysterical! The fuck!” the swear echoed in the cathedral. Bringing both men’s attention to their surroundings. They were neither isolated nor safe. Dean took a few calming breaths. “Alright, we should burn the body and then leave.”

     “Sorry to cause you trouble Dean.” And he genuinely did feel sorry, usually he just left the body, he was sure that there was some FBI agent tracking him down as a serial killer. That didn’t bother him as much as it really should. Most of the souls in the angel’s vessels were immediately sent to heaven and thus were already technically dead. He also didn’t know how he knew this. Distantly he wondered if this was because of the stolen grace. He decided to deal with it later.

     Dean pulled himself to his feet and brushed off his pants. He started towards the door, grabbing his hunting bag and retrieving the kerosene and salt. “So,” and he was trying for as Casual as possible but the uptick in his voice was far too telling. “Are you an angel?”

     Castiel just shrugged, “I haven’t a clue. I think they called me Nephilim once. Most of the time it’s just abomination.”

     “Most the time?” Dean's voice went up in pitch again and he silently cursed himself.

     “They have a vendetta against me, since I was sixteen. There have been five, well, six now. We tend to play cat and mouse for a couple of months, I wound them gradually then take them down.”

     Dean shook his head then drenched the fallen angel in kerosene and salt. “So not human then?” Castiel thought staying silent was the best course of action. Dean lit a match and dropped it on the body. The flames didn’t take long to engulf it and the pair of them made for the door before the whole place could catch. “Still though, thanks for saving my life. I guess I owe you.”

     “Not at all Dean, thank you for all your help with the spectral creature.”

     Dean laughed slightly at his strange wording. He looked towards his impala and then back to the man in a dirty trench coat and sighed, “You know, you’re not bad with a blade and I could use a hunting buddy.”

     “I hardly know anything about creatures, excluding angels. It would only bring you more trouble as well.”

     “We can fill in the blanks in each other’s knowledge.” He thrust out a hand, “How about it Cas, you, me, the open road, saving people hunting things?”

     Castiel took his hand with only mild hesitation. “I would love to Dean.”

 

 


	2. Pilot (one year later)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey! sam shows up in this one

     “Alright, Cas, wow me.” Dean said pointing at him with the business end of his fork, ignoring the slight offence that Cas showed him.

     “It appears to be a woman in white, a ghost that preys on unfaithful men. It goes back ten years.” Castiel said it all in monotone. He spun the laptop around so that Dean could see the latest headline.

     “We need to work on your presentation buddy.” He said, but leaned forward and read parts of the paragraph while still chewing on his dinner.

     “You say that every time I find a Case Dean.” Castiel replied equally monotone.

     “That’s cause it's true. Well, lets go ahead and head on over.” He pointedly got back to his over large plate of food. “After dinner of course.”

     “Of course.”

     Six hours later found them on the outskirts of Jericho. They decided to start on the Same stretch of highway, driving slightly under the speed limit and looking through the trees. Cas focused but found nothing especially supernatural when he expanded his senses and undisturbed they headed into town.

     “Okay, now since you pestered, you get to take lead, so fearless leader, what do we do first.” Dean eyed him calmly as he pulled into the motel parking lot.

     Castiel always squinted at nothing when thinking. “Research on local legend. Should be simple.” He was trying to give off an air of confidence.

     “Alright, alright, sounds good.”

     “I know you don’t want to do research Dean,” Castiel said neutrally. “but the internet is only marginally helpful. It is too much information, I think we should go through the towns archive of newspapers. In a small town any violent deaths would be reported on.”

     Dean nodded. “Good job thinking it through.”

     “You are a good teacher Dean.”

     They went to check in at the front desk. “And after that?”

     “The plan needs more information Dean, then I can go from there.” Castiel gave him an unimpressed look.

     “Right, you're the boss.” Dean put his hands up but was smiling, “You are getting better at this.”

     The clerk gave them a room with two singles and a little skeptical glance at them.

     “Constance seemed to be a tortured soul before her untimely death.” Castiel said over Dean's shoulder, causing the hunter to jump slightly

     “I should get you a bell, I swear to god.” Dead mumbled, “and yeah, now we have a lead, whats next?”

     “Confirm the lead, we should stake out the bridge, the spirit is likely tied to it as it is the place of her death.”

     They parked the impala a bit away, locked tight and safety break on. It didn’t make Dean too happy but Castiel insisted that they do so, lest the ghost possess the vehicle. He still grumbled about it, and shoved his hands as deep as they would go into his old worn leather jacket. It was cold and the rushing water made the air that much colder. Castiel didn’t seem to notice it, and just marched forward. Dean would have made a terminator reference if he thought that Castiel would get it, the guy was fucking sheltered.

     The bridge was sparsely lit. They didn’t notice at first that there was already a car parked on it. When Castiel grabbed Dean by the front of his shirt in warning they both stopped. 

     “thank your magical senses for me would you?” Dean whispered. “Anybody in there?”

     “A young man in his early twenties. He is looking for something.”

     “Could be another hunter?” Dean said hopefully, “Is he, you know?”

     “If he were an angel then he would likely not know how to drive.”

     The hunter scoffed. “Fucken pathetic, should we say hello fearless leader?”

     “Perhaps he knows something,” Castiel reasoned. No need to be rude afterall.

     Dean nodded and they resumed their walk, eventually reaching the meager light and catching the attention of the man in the car. He jumped out alarmingly fast, leveling a gun at them. Dean’s arms flew up “Whoah, dude, not here to fight!” he elbowed Castiel harshly and the other rolled his eyes and unethuesticly raised his hands. “Just wanna ask questions.”

     “Who the hell are you?” he called.

     Dean squinted through the light, leaned forward and his breath caught. “Sammy?” he sounded unsure, disbelieving and a little hopeful.

     “Sam?” Castiel asked tilting his head. He was quiet about the question.

     “What!? Who the hell are you?” the other man urged.

     Dean took a step forward, face breaking into a smile and he heaved a breath, “Samuel Winchester?”

     “Yeah, what of it?” his hold of the gun faltered slightly.

     Dean weezed unattractively, dropped his hands and turned to Castiel. “Am I dreaming, I really need you to tell me no.”

     “Dean you are not dreaming.”

     Dean laughed and ran his hands through his hair and doubled over, shot back up to standing. Then he abruptly stilled and sobered. “Is john here with you?”

     “Not your fucking business.” Sam shot back. He was still holding a gun to them.

     Castiel watched Dean carefully then turned to Sam. “Sam, my name is Castiel, this is Dean, I believe-“

     “We were friends when we were younger.” Dean rushed out, “Um, do you remember?” his voice was shaky and unsure.

     “No.” Sam snapped. Deans face fell slightly

     “We are hunters, we are hunting a woman in white who operates in this vicinity. Are you hunting as well?” Castiel continued his explanation.

     Dean was only slightly paying attention but he still knew well enough to have some sort of proof. He held up a flask of holy water and a small silver blade and made a show of making a small cut on his forearm and held the knife out to Sam.

     The younger of the two eyed it then slowly lowered his weapon and took it, miming the action then retrieving his own flask and lightly splashing the two of them with it. Castiel flinched a bit not liking the hunters way of greeting, he never had, paranoid that one of them would catch onto him and he would have to start running all over again and this time from a larger and more dedicated group.

     “See not demons, or anything else.” Dean said. “Now how about we have an actual conversation. Like how have you been doing, when did you get so tall, you know friendly stuff.”

     “I still don’t know exactly who you are but okay.” Sam was still stiff and untrusting and Dean for one couldn’t be prouder. “Dean and Castiel you said. Weird name.”

     “He's Russian.” Dean said. It was a common way of writing off the strangeness that Castiel employed.

     Castiel lowered his hand where they were still raised. He was more than ready to continue the stake out, but the reunion came first, even though they were in a potentially dangerous situation. “Samuel. I believe that the spirit can take possession of transportation vehicles. It was something that another hunter came across with a woman in white. Do you think it is wise to have your car in close quarters.”

     Dean chuckled slightly, “comeon mister robot. Chill, this is Sam, I've told you about him, he knows what he’s doing.”

     “Dean, you haven’t seen him in six years, he may have changed.”

     “Guys im right here.” Sam said. “How did you say we knew each other?”

     “uuuuhhhh-“ Dean was drawing a blank on a suitable lie.

     Castiel didn’t have time for Dean to come up with something, he could feel something over his shoulder. Turning he saw the barest flicker of white fabric. “Is that not our ghost?”

     The two other hunters turned sharply just in time to see her materialize and face them, she was standing precariously on the railing and leaning back slightly she looked at near tears. “I can never go home.” She said and plummeted to her death.

     The three men ran forward on instinct, reaching for her but she was already gone.

     They stood for a second, digesting what they had just seen. “An after image.” Sam said. “The article said that Constance committed suicide here.”

     “Guess we found our ghost.” Dean added. He clapped Castiel on the shoulder. “Good job Cas. Not bad.”

     “The question is what to do next.” Sam said. “I don’t really want to team up, I got her first, I get the Case, you two get out of dodge.”

     Castiel frowned, “How do we know we did not find it first.”

     “Well, because my dad has been working this Case for weeks, you two just showed up. Get lost.”

     “I thought you said john wasn’t here.” Dean said very carefully, as if Sam’s answer held grave importance.

     “What does it matter, he gave the Case to me, he was here first. My Case.”

     “Well if John isn’t here, then who is driving your car?”

     The bickering stopped, they all looked to the cheap beige honda, Sam held up the keys they dangled from his finger, “Huh.” He said numbly.

     The car reved up, head lights glaring at them, it lurched forward, going full speed, there was no time to run to the bank of the bridge. The spirit had them cornered, it was over the rails or road pizza. “Cas, get Sam!” Dean barked out an order and then they were all jumping to an uncertain fall.

     Castiel grabbed the underside of the bridge. Clutching Sam by the back of his coat. The car collided with the rails and it gave with a scream of metal on metal. Castiel winced at the sound. Then heaved the Winchester boy up until he could grab his own hold. He looked left then right, Dean was nowhere to be seen and Castiel felt his heart leap to his throat.

     “Dean!” he called out to the white water rapids.

     “There!” Sam said pointing to the bank.

     Castiel huffed a small laugh to see Dean crawling up the shore covered in mud. 

     He was none too happy when Cas met him at the roadside. He was shaking water out of his sleeves and sputtering. Castiel had already retrieved a towel from the impala and handed it over.

     “Never again am I jumping off a bridge because everyone else is doing it.” Dean rubbed vigorously at his face.

     “That is normally not a recommended course of action anyhow.” Castiel pointed out, doing his best to not be concerned. Dean had only suffered minor bruises to his arms and shins and couple of scrapes. He was fine Castiel knew that.

     Dean glared slightly, glancing over at Sam’s wreak of a car. He was pulling his bags out along with a small arsenal of weaponry. “Boy came prepared, too bad the car was a piece of shit.”

     “I've offered him a ride back to town. I hope that if fine.”

     “That’s great Cas.”

     “You should tell him you know, that you're his long lost brother.”

     “I'll tell him when I tell him okay?” Dean didn’t really mean to snap but he did, he always did when he felt vulnerable. He was stripping off the outer layers of clothes and tucking them in a spare bag they used for laundry. He felt so grimey and uncomfortable and it wasn’t just the wet and muddy clothes.

     Sam started towards them, even from a distance Dean knew that he was unhappy with the arrangements. But unless he wanted to walk eight miles in the dark with a homicidal ghost on the loose he would have to deal. The impala was nestled in a pull out in Case of break failure that they included in the structure of the roads commonly used by semis. it was convenient and it also kept the car out of view. Sam stopped abruptly short when he saw the whole thing.

     “Is this a ’67 chevy impala?” he blinked a couple of times like he couldn’t believe himself.

     Dean smirked proudly and slammed the hood closed. “Hell yeah, she’s my baby. I do all the repairs and maintenance myself.”

     Sam shook his head slightly and half smiled. “My dad use to have one just like it, got wrecked during a hunt though. Kinda nice to see that there are still some of them kicking around.”

     “Really now,” Castiel interjected, “What a strange coincidence.”

     Dean shot him a dirty look. “How about our guest takes shotgun and you shut your pie hole.”

     Cas made a show of rolling his eyes and opening the drivers rear door pointedly. Like he was trying to show how stupid he thought Dean was being without having to say it.

     “Driver picks the music.” Dean announced and pulled himself into the seat and set baby to life. She purred thunderously and off they went down the misty mountain roads and back into town.

     There was only the one shitty motel in the area so it really came to no surprise that they were staying in the Same place. Sam filled them in on the missing dad situation on the way there but was obviously keeping somethings to himself. Once arrived they had agreed to work the Case together, or more accurately, Sam agreed to work with them. It was dangerous to hunt alone anyhow. Everyone needs someone to watch their back.

     He brought Dean and Cas into john’s abandoned hotel room, a great show of trust even though it made Dean a bit jumpy. “So when I called him all I got were coordinates to here.” Sam gestured around without much of a flourish. “It wasn’t a great leap of faith to say that there was a case here and it was as good a place to start looking as anywhere.”

     Castiel was busy squinting at the papered walls, it was done in much the Same fashion as Dean had when they first met. He supposed some habits die hard.

     “And I couldn’t move on and just let people continue to get killed ya know.” Sam self consciously shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked backwards and forwards on his heels.

     Dean and Castiel systematically investigated the room and Sam watched from a distance having already taken stock of it all. The two of them were a strange pair. Dean seemed excitable and eger almost, Castiel could only be described as stoick. But it was evident that they were used to working together. Sam thought that there was something off but familiar, intensely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.

     He had the Same car as the one he and his sister had basically grown up in before the ‘hunting accident’ that further fractured his already small family, that in itself was suspicious, then there was the fact that he was over familiar. For someone who seemed so ecstatic to see him Sam had not recollection of anyone named Dean, and neither of the two men now prowling around his motel room had given last names. It wasn’t unusual for hunters not to give real last names but it was kind of strange that they didn’t give any at all.

     “So next we find out where she is buried. We should talk to the husband or any other surviving relatives, perhaps investigate the house. She said she could never go home.” Castiel said softly and sort of out of the blue. Like he had been thinking about the exact wording for a while but Sam got the impression that Castiel didn’t speak without thinking very often.

     Dean gave only a half shrug in response. “Cas buddy I could really use a shower and my four hours before we go traipsing off on another lead.”

     Castiel winced slightly, “Right, of course Dean, should I retrieve us some food then?”

     “I'm not letting you drive baby! You're a terrible driver.”

     Sam looked on only slightly confused but held his tongue when Castiel sighed deeply and turned to Dean. They stood holding each other's eyes for much longer than was comfortable for just friends. Sam had to repress the gasp of realization. He awkwardly cleared his throat. “So how long have you too been together then?”

     “Together?” Castiel inquired with a tilt of his head.

     Dean on the other hand turned several shades of red. “He's not my boyfriend.” Then jerked his head back to Cas. “I'm going to the room, give me your key, I'll get dinner you talk shop with Sam here and we will act on the plan in the morning.” He held out his hand expectancy and Cas gave him the little plastic key card. “Let me guess, you want, like, a salad or some froo froo rabbit food right?” he smiled at Sam and slipped out of the room quickly rubbing the back of his neck like a kid caught on the porch almost having kissed the girl but not quite.

     “Weird guy.” Sam said mostly to himself.

     “He grows on you.” Castiel assured him. “Like a moss.”

 

     After letting Sammy go to bed Cas and Dean headed back to their own motel room, as soon as the door shut behind them Castiel folded his arms in that stubborn way that meant that they were going to have to talk.

     “Now, I know this isn’t ideal-“ Dean began but was cut off sharply.

     “No Dean, this is not ideal, it is to quote you, ‘a shit show’.” he used the slightly outdated air quotes. “I recognize that this is something you have been wanting for a very long time but Sam has no idea who you are.”

     “Well tough tits, Sam will just have to get over it.”

     “And this was supposed to be my hunt, my methods, my lead, my experimentation with my ‘angel mojo’. What happened to that Dean?” he didn’t raise his voice though, just looked displeased and Dean thought that was almost worse. “You should at least tell Sam something, at this rate he’s going to think that your an enemy.”

     “Okay, I see your point, and it's really shitty of me to put all your stuff on the back burner.” Dean wrung his hands in the hem of his shirt. “but what if he doesn't want me anymore, sam I mean.” a pregnant pause, “Or worse decides to pull a dad.”

     Castiel sighed and moved forward, grabbing Dean by the shoulders thumbs going in comforting circles. “You have to at least try Dean. Sam does not strike me as someone who would turn to violence when he doesn't understand.”

     “What if he doesn't believe me. To anyone else it would be pretty far fetched.” Dean felt like he was buzzing beneath his skin. 

     “It is more believable than ghosts.”

     Dean laughed shallowly, “Yeah, more believable than ghosts. We should probably at least keep your whole thing on the down low though.” he winced at the way that sounded. “sorry.”

     “It’s fine, you’re stressed and I am not planning on having the entire hunter community after me.”

     “Are you going to sleep tonight?”

     “Not likely. It seems I have less and less of an inclination to as time goes on.”

     “That is kind of worrying,” Dean said. “maybe we should, ya know, look into that?”

     “Maybe.” Castiel replied noncommittally. “I think I will let you get reacquainted with your brother before that. I am not dying anytime soon.”

     Thank whatever fucked up god that gave Dean Cas. “Thanks man, we’ll get to your stuff. I promise.”

     “I don’t doubt you Dean.”

 

     Samuel couldn’t sleep, it wasn’t something new to him, he didn’t want to sleep because of nightmares, of losing Jess, of his mother, of the monsters, of not being there for Melody when she’d needed him the most. He was only twelve but he couldn’t shake the feeling even after all this time that he could have done something for her, anything. He wondered if Melody and mom would be proud of him for getting to Stanford, even if he did drop out before actually going to law school, he technically had a college degree and that counted for something right? It did, he assured himself.

     Idly he wondered what Melody would be up to now if she’d survived past sixteen. Maybe she would be hunting still, some bad ass husband by her side. Or she would be the lucky few and made it out, a kid on the way, calling him uncle Sammy.

     Sam paused, squinting at the ceiling. Sammy was not something he got called nor let people call him very often or not at all, Jess was once upon ocCasion, dad had and could when he was very young, and Melody had called him that just to annoy him sometimes but mostly used it strictly for affection. Why was he letting this stranger Dean call him Sammy. He would have to fix that in the morning.

     Stubbornly he rolled over, shifting uncomfortably. He was looking out of the partially parted curtains when he saw Castiel slip out of the door of their hotel room across the parking lot. That was strange, why wasn’t Cas sleeping already, maybe he was one of those hunters who only slept like two or three hours at a time, Melody had called it ‘getting her four hours’ rather than going to bed. Huh, come to think of it Dean had said the Same thing.

     Sam shot bolt upright in bed. Okay that was one too many coincidences. He counted off on his finger; one Dean had called him Sammy, knew him by sight, and been unusually happy to see him, like they hadn’t seen each other for awhile. Well Castiel had mentioned something about them not seeing each other in near ten years so yeah, not seen eachother in a while. Ten years. Melody had died ten years ago. Okay, maybe Sam was jumping to conclusions.

     Although, point number two was the car. That was weird, dad had it, bought it when mary was pregnant with Sam, had it ever since. Melody would whine and complain that she wanted to be the one to inherit the car, called it her baby and took particular interest in learning how to maintain and repair it from a very young age. Then when dad came back that night and told him something had killed her and taken the impala too; Sam thought it was kind of poetic that they were laid to rest together. Such an important thing seemed to stand out to Sam as a glaring red warning sign.

     But two points did not a pattern make, and Sam had been trained to pick up on patterns and differentiate them from coincidences. The whole thing made him jumpy, what if this Dean guy was some sort of creature, the creature that got Melody. The thought made his stomach turn. He had done the usual tests, sliver, holy water, salt lines. That usually covered all his bases. The what ifs promised to ruin his mind, what if Dean was something he’d never seen before, what if Cas was one too, what if this whole hunters in arms thing had been a nasty trap and he’d fallen hook line and sinker, what if it happened to his dad too and that’s why he wasn’t picking up his calls and nobody had heard hide nor tail from him in weeks?

     He resolved to be extra careful and just see how it played out. Another what if was- what if Melody had made friends with Dean along time ago and they had bonded over their similar mannerisms and Dean still remembered her and honored her memory. He had seemed particularly weary of john showing up, maybe that’s why Sam doesn't remember him, maybe dad had gone overboard on the whole precious daughter bit. Maybe he just missed her and was happy to see that he was okay. That was decidedly more wishful thinking and bitter sweet. Jess probably had a hand in that, she is- was- an optimist after all. God it hurt even to think about her.

     He laid back down, fantasies of Melody and Jess and mom played out in his head. Melody would say something stupid and snappy and mom would just laugh, Jess would probably love them, he really hoped they were together, after all, it wouldn’t really be heaven without them in it. Eventually he was able to dose off to sleep.

     The next morning Sam found out why Castiel was coming off rather grumpy, it was because Dean was a morning person apparently, Sam tried to be but wasn’t quite there. Dean woke him up with a very polite pounding and shout, of ‘Sammy get a move on!’. And when Sam finally did get up to the door he was greeted by a million-watt smile and a paper bag of take out breakfast food. Castiel was standing over Deans left shoulder looking unsurprisingly less cheerful.

     “I brought you breakfast.” Dean said and shoved it into Sam's unwaiting arms. “Cas says that he wants to do a divide and conquer style. You and me talk to the husband and old Cas here will go on down to the local haunted house.”

     Sam rubbed the sleep sand out of his eye and stepped back to let them in. he was not very groggy because of years of hunter training and experience, but damn he could tell he needed more sleep. He caught sight of Deans left hand. There was a ring there, it looked old, like a hand me down wedding band. He was fairly certain he had seen if before, somewhere.

     “Sounds kind of like a plan at least. Why don’t you two team up and I go check out the house.” He rustled through the bag of food, most of this stuff he hadn’t eaten since he was a kid but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

     “I wanna catch up Sammy, it will be fun, I promise.”

     “Could you not call me Sammy?” he squinted up at him, “only my sister and my girlfriend could call me that.”     

     Dean seemed to skip over most of the sentence. “You have a girl?” He sounded pleased and surprised. It was weird.

     “Had a girlfriend, and we are not talking about it.” He was aware that he was glaring, this guy had a tendency to just wedge right into personal family matters and Sam didn’t like it one bit.

     “My condolences.” Castiel said. “I will take the impala and report back in one hour.”

     Sam was thankful for Castiel’s no nonsense business approach, even if there was something seriously off about him, there was something seriously off about both of them.

     Dean put up a fight, but eventually he let Castiel drive off and the two hunters took to the streets of Jericho on foot. Dean was grumbling about injustice as they did so. He was kind of glad to be hanging out with Sammy though, even if the kid had no idea who he was, it still counted as brotherly bonding. Right?

     “So uh, what have you been up to?” he tried for Casual.

     Sam gave his a suspicious look, and Dean didn’t blame him, not really. “I don’t even remember you, remind me how we met?”

     “Uhhhhh,” his brain went dead for a couple of seconds. No matter what he answered Sam would know it was a lie, and he didn't even want to lie to Sam “How about we talk about that later. We’ve got a Case to work.”

     Sam rolled his eyes and scoffed.

     They ended up stealing a car and running to Castiel's rescue before they had any definitive answers. He had called not ten minutes later reporting that he had been car jacked by the ghost in question and would possibly need assistance at the aforementioned residence. His words, not Dean’s, and off they went. The drive was tense, Dean white knuckled the steering wheel and clenched his jaw.

     When they arrived Cas was holding her off a couple of steps away from the door of the old abandoned house. He had the Same expression on as always and Dean breathed a sigh of relief. They came out guns blazing and shot rock salt at the spirit, Castiel had been keeping her at arm's reach with nothing more but an iron rod and that by itself is pretty impressive.

     “Cas, lure her into the house!” Dean said, tossing him a sawed off shotgun.

     “What?” Castiel called back, tilting his head again.

     “I have a hunch.”

     Castiel rolled his eyes and began pacing backwards, keeping an eye out for the ghost.

     She wasn’t going to go down that easily though, she flickered into view and pinned Dean against the car, her long clawed hand plunging into his chest and Dean cursed rather than screaming in pain, and blasted her away again.

     Sam noticed that she wasn’t going to go home, and wasn’t going to be walking in there anytime soon, “Hey bitch,” the ghost rounded on him and he jumped into the car, the keys were still in the ignition and he started her up, as he thought she would, she appeared in the passenger seat, all big round eyes,

     “Take me home.” She said.

     “Alright,” he said and rammed on the gas pedal, the car lurched forward and ran headlong into the house, distantly he heard Dean crying out in second hand agony. The dust was thick and he coughed a few times. Suddenly Dean was there and pulling him out of the driver's seat.

     “Breathing, good.” Dean patted him on the back while Sam coughed slightly, the ghost appeared across the room from them looking up at the stairs.

     Water started to fall down the steps, on the landing two small children appeared, they walked slowly down and wrapped their arms around the body of their mother. She screamed, not in agony but in desperation and sadness.

     Castiel burst in the door just in time to see constance being pulled down into the floorboards. He winced slightly. Then turned to Dean. “She stabbed you.”

     “Yeah, uh, i'll be fine.”

     Sam finally stood up and looked around. The house was in utter shambles and was most likely not structurally sound anymore. Hopefully the impala would be able to just back up out of the wreckage. He joined the other two in looking the car over. His breath caught in his throat, in the back seat drivers side door there was an ashtray and in the ashtray was a little plastic soldier. It by itself was not entirely odd.

     It would have been nothing if not for the fact that he remembered when he was eight and Melody was twelve she’d taken a magnifying glass and melted one of Sams toy soldiers in there, much to his tears and anger. They’d never been able to get it out again and john said that it just gave the car character. And here it was again. just sitting there. This had to be the Same car, or Dean knew enough about the Winchesters to recreate it.

     “So the spirit of Constance is put to rest then?” Castiel said, cautiously.

     “Yeah, when two ghosts, or in this Case three, duke it out all parties go down. Pretty smart if I do say so myself.” Dean was proudly smiling, “Good job Sammy with your quick thinking but don’t go driving my car into buildings again.” Dean clapped him on the shoulder.

     Sam jerked away. Glaring, “Don’t call me Sammy.”

     “Sorry.” Dean mumbled, he looked like a kicked dog.

     “Did you kill Melody?” Sam half whispered, he was scared of the answer.

     “No I did not commit suicide, what kind of stupid question is that.” Dean winced the second he realized that was the wrong knee jerk reaction. 

     “What?” Sam hissed.

     “What?” Dean played dumb. Okay, he could do this. He could be brave. Brave for Sammy.  “Did dad tell you I died?” he asked timidly.

     “Dad??”

     Castiel heaved a sigh from the doorway, walked around the impala and got in. “I’ll leave you two alone.” And backed out of the house causing the whole thing to shift around them casting more dust on their shoulders

     Dean watched him go with desperation in his eyes, but snapped his attention back to Sam once he was out of earshot. “No seriously, what did he tell you?”

     “No! you explain first.” Sam was visibly more freaked out by this then he had been by the actual fucking ghost.

     “Uhhh, hiya Sammy, it’s me Melody, now Dean, I uh, I went and transitioned.” His tone said it as a question and he refused to look Sam in the face.

     Sam sputted dumbly. Ran a hand down his face, then ran both of them through his long shaggy hair. “Prove it.”

     “Remember when I put nair in you shampoo? Or that time I stole you a pre wrapped Christmas present and it turned out to be a barbie? That was embarrassing.” He rubbed his sweaty hands down his jeans, they were now covered in dust from the house but it was a nervous habit, so sue him. “Uh, what else, you caught me making out with Ronda Hurley in our underwear.” He was scarlette now.

     Sam just blinked at him. Seemingly frozen. Those were some particularly embarassing childhood memories he had chosen not to tell anyone, Melody hadn’t lived long enough to tell much of anybody.

     “Mom use to sing us hey jude for a lullaby, I continued doing that with you until you told me when you were seven that you were too old for lullabies. Um um um.” Dean looked around the room like it would tell him what to say, “I don’t know how to prove it, just that you're my little brother Sammy and I'm terrified that you'll hate me because of who I am.”

     Sam stood shocked, not because he wasn’t believing him but because of how much sense it made. All the evidence piled up in his mind. The clothes, the mannerisms. A couple of days before Melody’s disappearance, or death or whatever, she buzzed nearly all of her hair off, sighting it as being the new fad. Sam remembered that when they stayed in one place for very long all of Melody’s friends would call her something different, what was it? Something masculine he was sure. What if it was Dean?

     “How do I know you're not some kind of creature?”

     “What’s more believable, I’m some sort of monster that only  _ kind of _ imitates dead sisters or that I'm trans and dad tried to kill me before I was able to run away Sam! It's not that hard to believe!”

     “So what, you just abandoned me?”

     “Oh, so you just want to be mad? Just be mad then, I constantly left a trail you could follow, you never did, I couldn’t find you, for years, I thought dad told you and you just didn’t want to be found.” Dean stormed out of the house through the hole that was left, Sam watched him go.

     Dean/Melody was right, he was mad, he was furious. He didn’t think it was directed at his long lost sister now brother. It wasn’t really fair of him to say such a thing to him. He knew that his dad was a conservative but he didn’t think that it stretched that far. It was entirely possible that he had reacted negatively to his daughter coming out as his son. And Sam had done the Same thing, fuck.

     He stomped out of the house and back into the overgrown lawn. Dean was already leaning against the impala like it was the only thing keeping him up. It was almost a sad sight to see and Sam was struck by just how similar the action was to what Melody would do after a fight.

     “Uh, Mel?” Sam said uncertainty.

     “Dean” Castiel corrected, he was still sitting in the driver's seat like he had all the time in the world and hadn’t spent the last half an hour holding his own against a pissed off spirit. He was flipping through a book, just barley engaged in what the two brothers were doing.

     “Okay. Dean?”

     “What Sammy?” he said gruffly, but didn’t turn around.

     “Sorry for saying you abandoned me.” he felt like a child apologizing like this but he didn’t know what to say.

     “Whatever.” He grunted in response, keeping his face buried in the fold of his elbow.

     They stood silently for a moment or two and just waited, Dean sniffled only a little bit. Castiel had gotten into reading the life of pi and he didn’t have much to add to the family squabble. Sam felt like a pile of garbage. He opened his mouth a couple of times to say something but didn’t know what so he closed it again.

     “Do you need a hug Dean?” Castiel asked Casually, he sounded almost put apon to have to ask it.

     “No Cas I do not need a hug.” Dean said slightly muffled.

     The silence continued. Castiel reached out of the rolled down window and sympatheiclally patted Dean on the shoulder.

     “So what happened the night you disappeared?”

     “What do you think happened?”

     God, Sam didn't even want to think about it. He was sure that it was horrific, if it made Dean vanish into the night never to try to see dad again. “Never mind, I don't really need to know.” Sam finally decided. 

Dean huffed a sad laugh, his shoulders shaking under the weight of his breath. 

     “I don't hate you, i was just surprised.” Sam tried again. He didn't think that anything he could say could really make this any better. “Dean?”

     Dean stood up fully, rubbing at his eyes furiously. “Fucking hell Sam.” he muttered, coughed a couple times self consciously to clear his voice. He finally made eye contact with his mountain of a little brother. “So,” Dean crossed his arms. “What’s your plan now?”

     Truth be told Sam didn't really have any plans, he was flying at the seat of his pants as it was.      

     “I think we should write an apology note for the owner of the car we stole.” Castiel offered. “But that is just a suggestion.” 

     Sam gave him an odd look. Maybe there was nothing going on with Cas and he was just fucking weird. “Uh, yeah sure.” he shuffled awkwardly. “What are your guys plans? Not to be nosey.”

     “Find a new hunt I guess.” Dean said. “You-” he cleared his throat, “you should come with us.”

     “I-” it wasn't that Sam didn't want to. He desperately wanted to. “I would but I need to find dad.”

     “Why?” Dean asked like he was pleading. Sam expected him to say more but he just kicked at the grass. 

     “The demon, you know the one that killed mom.” Sam’s voice was thick with emotion.

     “Yeah?”

     “It got Jess, my fiance. Just strung her up and burned her alive.” it was Sam’s turn to press the heels of his hands tight into his eye sockets. 

     Dean and Castiel didn't say anything for a long minute. Just a moment of acknowledgement and sorrow for Sam’s loss. Sam appreciated it. He breathed through his nose. This wasn't a very good reunion. Both of them crying. It was stupid. 

     “Fine.” Cas snapped his book closed. “Dean and I will help you find your father and the second we even think that we might be close Dean and I leave. There will be no crossing of paths for Dean and your father.” 

     Dean gave Sammy a smile, though slight as it was, it meant that he agreed. 

     Sam nodded. “I can accept those terms.” they shook on it. 


End file.
